Finding your Light
by skelleeton
Summary: When you're on the edge of a cliff, you will eventually fall. I cant remember exactly when I first began to climb, but once I had realised, it was already too late. Rated T for safety. Bit dark.


**Disclaimer: I do not, and will not ever, own glee or any of its characters, dont sue me :(**

**A/N: So this fic will be a bit on the dark side. It contains some abuse, and suicidal thoughts, so if you are offended by that, dont read. It's my first fanfic, so any and all reviews are welcome. But I do urge you to remember the difference between 'constructive criticism' (which is good) and 'hate' (less good). This fic is a bit like dark chocolate, but please stick with me, all will turn out good in the end :)**

** Dont forget to R&R**

**Also, this prologue is a little bit shorter than the other chapters are going to be (hopefully) so don't hate on the length.**

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**When you're on the edge of a cliff, you will eventually fall. I cant remember exactly when I first began to climb, but once I had realised, it was already ****too late.**

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**Prologue**

We see each other around; we talk, smile, and tell jokes with each other, but she still doesn't see it. I'm not entirely surprised though, since it took me long enough to notice it - my feelings, that is – and someone like her would never fall for me. She has it all: the looks, the talent, the hoard of guys drooling over her. Adding me to the bargain probably wouldn't affect her. Lowly me, five foot something, ex-warbler, ex-boyfriend.

My father doesn't approve of me, he wants me to go into the family business- perhaps study law, and get good grades in 'things that matter'. Try as I might, though, I just can't focus all of my energy on something as mind-dumbing as law; it bores me. So I instead invested a lot of my time in the arts: Music, dance, anything that would help me escape the studies my father pushed me towards. And, for a while, he let me be. He didn't accept it – probably figured he would get me to cave eventually – but he allowed my to do what I wanted. That resolve soon snapped however. It could've been that time I refused to do the summer school in law, or maybe when he realised that I wasn't going to back down as easily as he had first presumed. The most likely explanation however – what I expect was the straw that broke the camels' back – was when I came out to him. That was when he first hit me. It was a simple beginning really, one that I suppose a lot of people are met with upon deciding that they're different. It was a backhand across my face, and it left a rather large, angry looking, red mark across my cheek. I didn't go into school for a couple of days after that. Everyone presumed that I was ill, as it was unlike me to not go into school. No-one cared.

I dated Kurt for a while, as a distraction as much as anything. That isn't to say that I didn't, don't, like him, but he was more of an act of defiance to my dad than a lover. He understood that I wasn't as interested in him as I pretended to be, he accepted that, but still tried to make us work. I tried to stop him from getting too attached to me, as I am no good for someone like him. Someone like me- someone as broken as me- could never be good for someone with such a love for life as Kurt. I couldn't bear to restrict him, or hold him back, so I let him go. I know it hurt him at first, that deep down he had hoped that I would stay, that he could teach me to love him, but it was never meant to be. He still seeks me out, tries to get me to open up to him, but I've never been very good at that; I learnt from a very young age that I should keep my emotions to myself, and that voicing my opinions, or thoughts, wouldn't get me anywhere I needed to be.

In reality, nobody really knows who I am. I hide behind this bubbly persona, acting carefree, but those who bother to get close to me, well they soon realise my act. They don't always question it, and when they do, I block them out, shut them down. It hurts too much for me to explain myself, my life; I don't have the strength to go through all of those memories. I just- I can't. I admire people who have the strength, the resolve, to tell people of their problems. I don't like the idea of it, though. It would taint my entire life; all I have worked towards, the character I have built up, it would never be the same. _I_ would never be the same, and so I hide. Call me a coward, call me what you will, but you have probably never been in my situation- and I hope most of you never will be- and so you can't possible understand the muddle that is my brain. My feelings are scrunched up under my guilt, my self-resentment, this ever growing darkness inside of me. I can't _feel_. I suppose this all sounds a bit angsty, but my life has never been a piece of cake. I have never found an easy way out of my problems, and I suppose I never will; the pile just continues to mount above my head, and I fear that one day, I won't be able to take it anymore. I fear that the thin resolve inside of me, the one that forces me to get up every morning, that allows me to fake happiness, that gives me _hope_, will eventually leave me, and that I will crumble under the strain of my life.

However, through all of this, I have stood strong, and only now, now that I have stumbled upon a bright light, _now_ that I question myself. It is now, as you walk through the halls, leaning into him, his hand clenched within your own, now that I wonder when it started to hurt so bad. I ask myself when it started to hurt _me_ to see you hold his hand.


End file.
